


Like a lead balloon

by Viscariafields



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Dragon Age: Origins Quest - The Landsmeet, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 20:00:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29722458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Viscariafields/pseuds/Viscariafields
Summary: Darrian has decided who is going to be the next monarch of Ferelden. Zevran has doubts. They talk it out.
Relationships: Zevran Arainai/Male Tabris
Kudos: 5





	Like a lead balloon

**Author's Note:**

> A stand-alone prequel to my fic, The Edge of Sadness, where we start to see how Darrian and Alistair's relationship fell apart.

“This will break him.”

Zevran was waiting in their suite, a concerned look on his face. Of course he already knew what Darrian had decided. He’d spoken of it to no one, spent the day gathering information, smiling at nobles who would have kicked him into the mud not six months ago, lied his face off, and Zevran knew. It was the only decision, really. No other options worked.

Darrian sighed, pulling at the buckles of his chest plate. “He will rise to the occasion.”

“Will he?”

The plate clanged as it hit the stone floor. “Fuck, Zevran, my decisions cannot always reflect the wellbeing of _Alistair_.”

Zevran picked up his chest plate, brushing it off with feigned indifference. “It _is_ his future.” He hung it over the armor rack with a pointed look.

_His and everyone else’s._ Darrian sighed. “He’ll be safer here than as a Warden. Warm bed, good food, as much as he likes whenever he likes. Cushy, really. Better than what most get in life.” He knew he was only trying to convince himself, because it wasn’t what Zevran meant at all, and it wasn’t even working. Darrian wasn’t convinced. “It’s the fucking Blight, and I need someone on the throne I can trust.”

Zevran hopped on their bed and leveled him with a skeptical stare. “I understand Anora has indicated a willingness to support you. Maybe even to support him.”

Yes, he’d spoken to her at length. She was willing to marry Alistair as long as it kept her head on her shoulders and crown on her head. But Darrian had seen what good her rule did for the country. Grew up in the alienage just down the road from Her Royal Majesty and Her Majesty’s court. If the rumors were true and she was the power behind the throne, Darrian was less than impressed.

“Anora is either evil or incompetent.”

“That seems a little simplistic. She’s a politician. She can be both simultaneously.”

Darrian was in no mood. “Her father was selling my family from the alienage right under her perfect little nose. Either she allowed this to happen, didn’t know about it, or couldn’t stop it. Evil incompetence as you say.” He scoffed. Like he’d let someone like _that_ influence Alistair. Like he would throw away a chance to make it better. “Either she allowed the attack on Highever, or she couldn’t stop it. Either she _allowed_ Vaughan to—” He took a breath. What would that asshole say if he knew where Darrian was now? His foul actions set him on the path that had him choosing the new monarch of Ferelden.

Still, it was no reason to shout at Zevran. He wasn’t angry at him. Darrian swallowed. “So either she made the choice to let it happen and she’s just as wicked as her father, or she was too incompetent to stop any of it, and she’s no better than Alistair in that regard.”

Zevran nodded, and at least here he seemed to agree. But he wasn’t done advocating for Alistair. “And the army? The Freemen of Ferelden are picky about their leaders. Who is to say they will follow him?”

“You think anyone who has seen Alistair on the battlefield will find him lacking? He doesn’t need those armies when has mine.” Darrian waved a hand in the air. “Anyway, Anora’s own army helped put her under house arrest. They don’t answer to her, but to Loghain, and he’ll die for his crimes regardless. And she is on even footing with Alistair, and I am certain Alistair would never sell my father to a magister.” 

“You have thought about this thoroughly,” Zevran hedged. He patted the empty spot on the bed next to him, and Darrian kicked off his boots before climbing up. “You are right, of course. Or at least, I am convinced. But I cannot help but think of Alistair. After all this time together, I know this is not what he wants.”

“Did you want to be born destitute?” Darrian asked, settling Zevran against his chest. “Did I want to be born in an alienage? I think I would have made a great farmhand.” Zevran snorted, and Darrian ran his fingers through his hair until he settled. “We play the hand we’re dealt. That’s all. He’ll rise to the occasion,” Darrian repeated. _He has to._ There was no other choice.

**Author's Note:**

> Darrian's view on Anora don't necessarily reflect my own, which I think is probably clear given her role in TEOS. TEOS can be found here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26784340/chapters/65339563
> 
> Darrian was written to fill a role in TEoS, but I ended up liking him so much after that that I'm now hoping to write him a bit more.


End file.
